


Mr. Sauve

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Het, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Stanford Era, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to surprise visit his significant others on Valentine’s Day</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Sauve

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: kitchen sex, het sex, threesome relationship
> 
> This was written for my Valentine’s Day fic meme.
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

Whenever Dean happens to cross paths with his father, they never discuss Sam. He isn’t mentioned at all. While on one level that still gets under Dean’s skin, he is also relieved by the lack of little brother discussion.

It is not like he thinks that his dad somehow developed psychic abilities and could get inside of Dean’s brain if the subject of Sam ever came up. But Dean also knows that he is not the one in the family that is great with keeping secrets. For all of Sammy’s caring and sharing bullshit, he and Dad have always been the two that are misleading, deceiving bastards.

Not that Dean loves them any less for it. As a matter of fact, he’s pretty certain that he might love Sammy a whole lot more for it.

Or is that Moore?

Dean laughs to himself at the pun because the college kiddies still haven’t developed an appreciation for the fine art of punning despite all of the money that the two of them are sinking into their fancy degrees.

And, okay, Dean will admit that Sam is kind of doing the ultimate share and care with his girlfriend, but it isn’t like he isn’t getting handsomely rewarded in return - very, very handsomely rewarded if the girl at the barber shop wasn’t just blowing smoke up Dean’s ass for a better tip when he stopped for a fresh haircut a couple of days ago.

He’s being a bit of a romantic fool, and he knows it. Sam and Jess probably already have a nice, quiet evening planned out where they go to some artsy romantic comedy and eat a fancy shmancy meal at some Italian restaurant that they can still afford on their college kid budgets.

Sam probably doesn’t even expect Dean to send a card let alone show up, and there’s always the chance that they’re not going to be able to cancel their plans because of friends or something really normal and boring. Dean’s okay with that. If he guilt trips them, they’ll bring him back their leftovers and maybe order him some dessert to go.

Dean doesn’t just slip into the apartment even though he has a key. He humors Sam’s dying macho pride by telling him that he doesn’t want to pick up unnecessary bruises, but the truth is that Sammy is really out of practice at hand to hand combat. Dean could take him with one hand tied behind his back if he didn’t think that Sammy would get all kinky about it.

The only reason that Dean is all civilized about entering the apartment is that he doesn’t want to scare Jess.

She’s a sweet girl, completely out of Sam or Dean’s league, and Dean doesn’t know what the hell she is doing with either of them let alone both.

Well, he understands the sex part. The sex is great. Dean is good at taking care of his babies, and just because he picked up a new one later in life, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know how to adapt.

Nobody answers the door when he knocks, but he can hear the radio going inside the apartment and the sounds of something clinking around in the small kitchen that is in there.

Sam and Jess have themselves a pretty swanky place compared to the majority of apartments that Dean grew up in let alone the kinds of places he sleeps at on a regular basis. Their kitchen is well stocked, and seems how Dean isn’t smelling smoke, he can bet that it’s Jess in there and not Sam.

That and Sam’s footsteps are heavier. Moose don’t tread all that lightly.

Scaring is one thing, but pleasant surprises are another thing entirely. At least that is the logic that Dean uses when Jess doesn’t come to answer the door and the smell of cookies starts to make its way past the cracks where the door doesn’t quite line up with the frame right anymore. There’s only so long a man can wait for his sugar.

He slides his key in the lock and slips inside the door as quietly as he can being an over six foot guy with a heavy duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. He doesn’t toe off his boots as he comes inside, but he does leave his bag by the front door.

Any noise he makes as he approaches the kitchen is muffled by the cheap carpeting the apartment has and the soft sound of the radio that Jess has on to keep her company. She’s got decent enough taste in music even though she still listens to some of the emo crap that Sam listens to and has an unhealthy collection of pop music. But she also likes classic rock, and even if that taste is a little older even than Dean’s preferred years, he can respect that - which is a good thing, because Sam might do something horrible to him if he didn’t respect Jess.

Then again, Dean would do terrible things to Jess if she didn’t respect Sam, and he half thinks that Jess would beat them both bloody with her rolling pin if she knew what ‘territorial protective primates’ the two of her Winchester boys are inside. She probably has a clue though. Sam’s hair has always qualified him for the monkey house.

“Hey Gorgeous,” Dean murmurs as he wraps an arm around Jess’s waist. He waits until she slides her latest tray of cookies into the oven though. Damaging good food just goes against his moral character.

Jess squawks in surprise, and her tiny hands come down to slap against Dean’s arm. He laughs. He finds it adorable that she’s so spastic as he lifts her off her feet even though his hunter’s brain reminds him that he needs to talk to Sammy about making sure their girl has a little bit more self-defense training.

“Dean! Put me down!” Jess protests with a girly little giggle.

Dean complies, dropping her to her feet and spinning her around to steal a hello kiss.

“Miss me?” he asks with a grin as he pulls away.

She swats at his chest in response. “You’re a dick,” she informs him primly. “Sam said you were in Tucson.”

“I was,” Dean tells her, “now I’m here.”

“Sam said that you…”

“Don’t always tell my little brother everything, Sweetheart. Man’s gotta keep a little mystery in his life,” Dean growls low.

Jess… kind of gets off on having two brothers in the sack. Gets off on it a lot actually, kind of like guys that fantasize about having a three way with twins or something. Dean respects that in her. He likes his women frisky.

Predictably her eyes glaze over a little at the mention of Sam’s not so normal relationship with her other boyfriend, and Dean’s cock isn’t one to pass up on that opportunity. He hasn’t gotten laid in freaking ages thanks to the whole ‘committed relationship’ thing and the hunts that he has had to take that were clear across the freaking country.

“You are a dirty pool player,” Jess accuses, but there isn’t any heat in her words.

“It’s how I make my living,” Dean teases as his hand slides just a little lower from Jess’s waist to play grab ass with her.

“Dean, I’m busy,” she says with her lips, but her hips are telling a completely different story with the way that they’re pressing up against him. “You’d better not make me burn anything.”

“That a challenge?” Dean asks with a smirk, his own hips grinding back against her. “Because I can do quick.”

Jess raises one skeptical eyebrow at him, and it is so on. Dean likes to make things last. Jess and her fancy psychology degree would tell him something about his need to prove himself and something about perfectionism, but he tunes her out as much as he tunes out Sam when Sammy starts ragging on him about his latest plot to get Dean to give up hunting.

But it’s Valentine’s Day, and Dean has always had a fondness for the volume of sex he can get on said day, so he forces thoughts of depressing thoughts of normalcy from his brain and leers at Jess instead.

She grins back at him and takes a step back to shove her sweatpants down off her hips, taking her tiny little thong with them. She’s a natural blonde. Dean’s still shocked that Sammy went for her. His type is short and brunette, and Jess is neither of those things.

“Well?” she prods, “you’ve got ten minutes, Mister Winchester.”

Dean laughs and yanks her back into his arms, uncaring when she starts to ride the fly of his jeans, getting the front of them wet. He has washed for worse things out of his clothes, and there is something unbearably dirty about having his brother’s girlfriend writhing her unclothed pussy against him when she’s still got her tee-shirt on.

He’s on the timer though, so he doesn’t take too long to enjoy the filthiness of it before sliding his hand down to undo his belt, button and zipper. His dick is hard and ready, desperate for a little loving, and Dean tries to keep his kisses from turning gentle and caring.

There is something unspeakably scary about being in a romantic relationship instead of just getting his rocks off with whatever hot chick he can pick up at the local bar. One of the reasons is that he has problems keeping up his tough guy façade.

Dean gets… mushy and lovey when he’s having sex with a person he cares about. The first time that he screwed around with Sam, all drunk and desperate because Jess had been playing the cock tease with both of them until they finally gave into their brother lust, Dean hadn’t been able to look his Sammy in the eye the next morning.

It isn’t that Dean had felt guilty for screwing Sam’s brain out. He knows that he should have felt that way, but he didn’t, still doesn’t and doesn’t figure that he will in the future. No Dean couldn’t bear to see the look in Sam’s eyes when he realized just how far off his manly pedestal Dean comes when he’s ‘making love’ instead of screwing around.

But Sam hasn’t once taunted him about it. They haven’t discussed it, and if Dean has his way they never will. Dean is just thankful that Sam doesn’t seem to be of the mindset to pick on Dean for his mushy, sappy bedroom habits. He isn’t sure if this is because Sam’s worried that Dean is going to cut him off if he does or if he’s scared that Jess will cut his balls off. It’s a toss-up, although Dean favors the Jess theory. Sam knows how easy a lay Dean’s always been since he went through puberty.

Jess’s whimper reminds Dean that he was on a mission before his brain started reminiscing about fun, loving, adoring sexy times, and his eyes dart over to the timer that is slowly ticking down on the countertop. He’s got less time than he thought he had, but he is Dean freaking Winchester. He’s got this one in the bag.

His underwear is already wet from where Jess has been rubbing against him, and his dick is very appreciative of this fact. It’s even happier when he slides it out of its cloth confines. The backs of his fingers brush against the damp wetness of Jess’s bush as he pulls himself free, and his dick gives a hopeful jerk.

But just because Dean has been faithful and Jess is on the pill, he knows better than to go in bare no matter how much Jess might want that. He’s out hunting things that go bump in the night. He gets covered in blood and dirt and slime from all manner of monster-ly orifices. Sex isn’t the only way to catch a disease, and he isn’t going to risk sharing that with either of his lovers.

He has a condom in his back pocket that he fishes out with the ease of many nights of practice. Jess makes a disappointed noise against the portion of his throat that she’s trying to mark up, but he evades her attempts to snatch the package away.

Ever since his test results came back negative for any STDs, she’s been pushing both Sam and Dean to get Dean to go without. She knows about hunting, Dean insisted on that, much to the shock of Mr. Normal who thought Dean would never go against their father’s wishes, but even with the knowledge, she doesn’t quite get how dangerous it is.

Admittedly, Dean and Sam have kept that from her. They don’t want her to have to bear the same weight that they do, and their relationship is delicately balanced because of it.

Dean lifts the condom packet over his head and tears it open by feel as Jess performs her typical bouncy-jump to try to grab it from him. He doesn’t need to be so theatrical about it, but even still hampered by her bra, her boobs jiggle just right when she jumps, and Dean’s always been one for a good show.

“Behave,” Dean growls as he slides one hand around her waist to hold her in place while the other hand sneaks down to roll his condom over his cock.

She bites at his jaw in retaliation and growls, “Make me,” right back.

Dean grins and he’s tempted to shove right in to prove his point, but Dean has enough pain in his life. He’s not one for causing it in bed. He knows a few hunters that get obsessed with the tools of the trade, confuse pain and pleasure, and he swore never to become one of them.

To his surprise, Jess swats his hand away when he reaches down to finger her open. Instead she jumps and wraps those stupidly long, Amazonian legs around his waist, and both of his hands grab onto her perfect white ass to keep from dropping them both on the kitchen floor.

“What the hell?” Dean croaks as he half stumbles while trying to keep upright.

Jess just grins at him and wraps one perfectly manicured hand around his cock to pull it towards her entrance. She’s a little higher up than his groin, so he doesn’t go in far, but Dean is still surprised at how easy the slide is. There’s no discomfort on her face, and she’s already making breathy little moans of happiness.

“Sammy wanted a quickie before he left for class,” she purrs all superior and knowing.

And goddamn Dean should really quit trying to one up the eggheads in their relationship, because his balls pull up tight just thinking about that.

“That’s right,” Jess coos, “you like being where baby brother was, huh? Like having your dick in the same place he was shooting off earlier? Moaning against my throat and calling your name?”

“Fucking cheater,” Dean says as he turns around and pushes her up against the refrigerator. He lets her back slide down a little so he has a better position and just starts pounding. He can hear condiment bottles tipping over inside and figures that he won’t be able to grab either a cold beer or pop for a while, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Jess is moaning against him, her cunt gripping at his cock and she’s pushing her hips back against him. She’s a competitive girl, and Dean’s fond of that attribute most days. But today he’s on a short time frame, and he’s not going to let her get to him first, so he frees one of his hands to slide down to start fingering her clit, rubbing her wetness around it, dipping his fingers into her folds to stroke at the sensitive skin that’s stretched wide by the intrusion of his cock into her body.

Jess moans and whines and gives him a mother of a hickey on his jaw just as she comes, her vaginal walls contracting around him like a very flexible and wet hand. Dean could still calm himself down, keep going until she gets her second wind, but the woman is vicious about her baked goods, and there is a good chance she’ll make him a pie if he behaves, so he gives himself over to the delightfully wet sensations and comes, balls pumping his backlog into the thin covering of the condom like champs.

Dean grabs the base of the condom almost immediately and pulls out, easing Jess back down to stand on her own two feet. He doesn’t even have the latex barrier off before the timer dings, and Jess is hurrying over to the oven to pull Sam’s chocolate chip cookies out.

The kitchen trash might not be the best place to dispose of his rubber, but it’s close so Dean uses it anyway. In a fit of gentlemanly behavior, he picks Jess’s sweatpants up off the floor and only watches her spatula cookies onto her cooling rack for a little while before going over and offering the garment to her.

“How long are you in town for?” Jess asks as she trades him the cookie sheet for her clothes.

Dean shrugs and tries to pretend that the frilly pink oven mitt that he shoved on his hand to take the hot cooking item doesn’t give him the willies as he finishes moving the cookies onto the cooling rack for her.

“Dean,” Jess whines, “we barely got to see you last time.”

Dean knows that, and he feels bad about it. But Dad had called, and Dean’s always been about family. Just because Sam and Dad are having some sort of epic war, that doesn’t mean Dean wants any part of it. Plus, “Sorry Dad, can’t come. Busy coming all over Sam’s ass,” just hadn’t sounded like a good excuse.

“I can’t just let people die,” Dean answers her, staring at the cookies that are disgustingly and perfectly heart shaped.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you don’t rest more,” Jess chides him. “Besides, Sam misses you.”

It’s another low blow, but Dean shrugs and smiles sadly at her. Sam was the one who left. Dean was the one who came crawling after him liked a kicked puppy. Sam’ll do just fine without him.

Jess makes a disgruntled noise low in her throat and grabs the spatula from him so that she can whack his arm with it.

“Men are such idiots. I should’ve become a lesbian,” Jess grouses.

Dean can’t help the part of his brain that automatically supplies an image of Jess having a lesbian threesome. His cock jerks happily at the thought, and his daydream is significant enough that it must show on his face because Jess makes another sound of disgust.

“Is it possible for you to focus right now? Because I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

“I’m listening,” Dean immediately replies even though they both know he was busy fantasizing instead.

“I want you to come home more often,” Jess tells him plainly.

“Sam…” Dean begins, but Jess cuts him off with another whack of the spatula.

“Sam is an idiot who is so in love with you that he’s all messed up in the head over it. He wants you near. I want you near, and you want to be near. Only the two of you are so bent on making us all miserable that you can’t bring yourselves to take a little happiness.”

“Shouldn’t Sammy be here for the big relationship conversation?” Dean tries.

“No,” Jess answers. “Because Sam is a man, and he’s an idiot when it comes to his relationships. First you, then the ‘protecting’ me bullshit and then the whole resistance to having a meaningful, fulfilling relationship just because having two partners instead of one is against some societal norm – he’s just not good about it.”

“And I am?” Dean challenges. It’s the best defense he can come up with because he’s just as messed up as Sam, and it’s the only way he can think to defend his brother.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jess dismisses. “You’re worse. You just also happen to be less flighty than Sam. At least I know where you’re going if you feel the need to go sulk about your ‘unnatural’ tendencies.”

“So you’re saying what?” Dean challenges.

“That you’re both idiots,” Jess tells him flatly, “but for some reason I love you so you should come around more often. Also if you happen to still have that pair of jeans you wore the last time you were here? Sam’s got a hard on for them and your ass, so I’d wear them to dinner tonight if you know what I mean.”

“Wait, what?” Dean asks.

“Sam wants to nail your perky little ass,” Jess says.

Dean summons up his big brother glare at her, but it doesn’t seem to affect her in the least.

Jess rolls her eyes at him. “Of course I made the dinner reservation for three, dumbass. You think I didn’t know that you were going to drag your romantic little heart here for Valentine’s Day?”

“I hate you,” Dean tells her. “You’re a terrible woman. Should’ve never trusted Sam’s taste.”

“Oh? Well I guess that you don’t want the pie that I made you earlier?” Jess asks, eyes wide and innocent.

“Is it cherry?” Dean asks because while he’ll cave for any pie, and Jess knows that by now, he’s got to at least put up a token resistance. He isn’t completely whipped yet.

“Of course it’s cherry. Red for Valentine’s Day and heart shaped too,” Jess tells him.

“I suppose that maybe Sam’s taste isn’t all that bad,” Dean concedes. “He is my brother after all.”

Jess laughs and gives him a shove. “Go take a shower and clean up, Romeo. I have to finish baking, and if you’re all dirty when Sam gets back, he’s going to use that as an excuse to maul you.”

“That’s a bad thing how?”

“I want to go to dinner, and I know how you two horndogs get.”

“I resent that,” Dean tells her even as he starts to shuffle off towards the small bathroom that Sam and Jess have in their apartment.

“I bet you do,” Jess calls after him.

Dean will deny it if he’s asked, but he kind of feels a little warm and fuzzy on the inside and just a tiny bit nervous. This is going to be his first Valentine’s Day dinner as part of a couple. Threesome. Throuple. Whatever.

Point is that this is his first time playing the attentive, lovey boyfriend for a holiday, and he wants to do it right. He’s going to be Mr. Smooth and Mr. Suave and Mr. Attentive and Mr. Sexy. No – he’s going to be fucking Dr. Sexy.

He’s so going to use Sam’s shampoo.


End file.
